


Use Your Arms

by morningblack



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Drowning, M/M, Pre-Canon, Tsundere John Marston, Tumblr request, Young Arthur Morgan, Young John Marston, blame the puberty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 01:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17839823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningblack/pseuds/morningblack
Summary: Arthur try to teach little John how to swim, in his own “gentle” way.(Requested by @jarthurmorgan on Tumblr)





	Use Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writting this, angry John is cute~ (plz be aware I’m not a native english speaker and you may/will find errors, feel free to point it out and I'll do my best to fix it)

“We’re going to the lake.”

“Huh?”

Arthur invited -- well, more like demanded -- John to go with him. The bossy voice tone was present on him already on his twenties, while the younger was still at puberty building a mature voice for him. It wasn’t pretty to hear, though.

“Why do I have to go with ya? Is it a job?” The usual childish voice gave way to a husky thing that didn’t deserve to be called voice. Arthur’s ears ached to it. He knew John was passing through a phase. He lived that too, but at least his voice ended up pretty intimidating. John seemed to be ending up with an old man’s voice. “Poor Johnny,” Arthur thought. He answered the boy while preparing his saddle on his horse:

“‘Cause Dutch asked me to. Ya need to learn how to swim if ya wanna survive, and we delayed it too much already. Get on yer horse, Marston.”

The boy snorted angrily, clenching his fists. He didn’t want to be alone with Arthur. He knew he would do something stupid because of the stupid feelings growing on him. He blamed them on his age, telling himself it would go away when he turned eighteen or so, as he learned from books and other men. 

Arthur wasn’t much better. John was almost a man, and he didn’t expect to be looking at him with different, unnatural thoughts. “He’s a kid, goddamnit,” Arthur kept telling himself everytime he felt a tingling coming up from his chest.

John saddled his horse up and followed Arthur silently heading a lake near their camp. They almost didn’t talk during the trip, just some eventual casual chat about their last jobs and the weather, Arthur answering everything with a hum. He wanted John to shut up and stop trying to create conversation. His voice sounded as if his vocal chords were torn, so bad it hurt Arthur’s ears.

When they reached the lake, Arthur dismounted first, feeding his Tennessee Walker an apple before hitching it to a tree. John observed and did the same. Arthur was his object of admiration, more than anything. He wanted to be like him in every way: strong, smart, a good shot and pretty. John shook his head to the last thought, blushing a bit.

Arthur led the way, walking down to the lakeside. John followed him, keeping his eyes on the older’s face, but looking away at the minimum sign of Arthur turning his head. Arthur stopped and turned to face John, starting his sentence pointing to the lake:

“That’s how we gonna do it: Ya go in the lake ‘til the water is at your chest, then ya crouch and try to come back ‘til yer hands hit the ground. Easy.” Arthur ended with both hands on his hips, smiling.

John frowned, waiting for Arthur to continue. John even widened his eyes and raised both eyebrows, gesturing with open hands. When Arthur kept silent, the boy said:

“Not gonna tell me anything more? Just ‘go and be lucky’?”

Arthur shrugged, laughing a bit:

“That’s how I learned it, there ain’t a secret for it. Now, let your belt and satchel here, will be better for ya to learn without extra weight at first.” 

John felt a little bit of kindness coming from the last phrase. Not sure if it could compensate the danger and shame he would have to undergo. He was sure as hell he would look like a drowning cat, making desperate movements to try and swim back to the lakeside. He sighed and started to unbuckle his belt, dropping it on the ground together with his satchel.

John sat on the ground to remove his boots, but Arthur intervened.

“The hell yer doing, kid?”

John looked at Arthur, confused and getting angry already. He answered slowly:

“Taking my boots off…?”

“You ain’t gonna have time to took yer boots off when the law is running after you.” Arthur grabbed John by the back of his shirt and pulled him up while saying it, like a rag doll. John protested in vain trying to reach the arms of the older.

“Get offa me, Arthur!”

“Christ, stop yelping already, I’m just makin’ ya stand up again, ya fool!” And then Arthur throwed John in the water. He tried to balance himself walking forward, but he didn’t make it and landed with a splash, on his hands and knees. Oh, the embarrassment. John cursed as his face went all red, but Arthur didn’t notice. He commanded John:

“Now go until the water is at your chest. Then do as I said.”

John sighed and stood up, slowly walking into the lake. The water was cold, he could feel fish on his legs and some people were fishing at the other side of the lake. It felt terribly awful. When he felt the water at his chest, Arthur shouted:  
“Remember to hold your breath and use your tongue to close your throat!”

John felt the urge to answer a loud “I know it,” but he dared not. He was tired of the constant fight with Arthur, who made fun of every single thing John said or did. John took a deep breath and crouched, making his body float in the water density. He held his breath and started to move his arms and legs, trying to push the water back. John did that until he became out of air, standing up again to breath. He realized he was at the same place, and felt even more embarrassed at the loud laugh Arthur let out, his arms crossed.

“It looks like yer punching the water!”

“Fuck you, Morgan!” John shouted, as he crouched again to try once more. The younger felt mortified with the situation, but if Arthur learned this way, he could make it too, just had to try hard a bit more. Arthur cupped his hands on each side of his mouth and said loudly:

“Try pull with yer arms ‘n’ push with yer legs, one thing at a time!”

John was glad Arthur finally said something useful. He followed his tip and could feel he was moving -- but backwards. John kept trying, afraid of going way too deep in the lake, but he was going even further into it.

“You’re doing it wrong! Use your arms, John! Make way to the rest of yer body, you’re tryna float like a piece of shit or what?” Arthur shouted at the distance.

It was too late. John couldn’t understand clearly what Arthur was saying, because he was starting to get tired and to dive into the lake unintentionally. He released his breath bit by bit, and got desperate by air, struggling in the water. He managed to get up and catch a mouthful of air, not before shouting out:

“Arthur!!”

And then John disappeared into the water again. The younger barely noticed his movements made his suspenders drop out of his shoulders, and then his loose trousers were going down, making it hard to use his legs to swim.

The older man widened his eyes and uncrossed his arms. Arthur thought loud an “Oh, shit!” and ran into the lake to rescue the boy, folding his sleeves a bit more and tossing his hat away before swimming to where John was drowning.

Arthur couldn’t grab John underneath his arm, so he managed to grab him by the back of his shirt, just like he did in the lakeside before, but John wasn’t helping. He was moving way too much, hindering the effort Arthur was making to save him. Without thinking too much, he pushed John up and forward and released him, doing this multiple times until the water depth was enough for John to stand up. Then, he put one of John’s arms around his shoulder and neck, supporting him until they both reached the lakeside. Arthur laid John down on the dirt, helping him to lean forward. John grabbed Arthur’s shoulders as an act of reflex. The younger was coughing and spitting water out, and Arthur couldn’t tell if the huskiness on his tone was because of the water on his lungs or his natural voice. He hit the back of John slightly, to help and comfort him somewhat. And was at this moment he noticed John’s trousers were gone, as well as his boots. He was completely naked down his waist.

Arthur muffled his laugh with a hand and looked away, blushing a bit.

John was still dizzy by all the action, but immediately realized his lack of trousers. Instinctively, he pulled his hands out of Arthur to cover his shame using the bottom part of his shirt. His face all red, same as his neck. 

“D-don’t look, your bastard!” He shouted with a voice harsher than the usual. It wasn’t so terrible; actually, it was intimidating. Arthur looked back into his eyes. John’s eyebrows frowning and his black eyes piercing, teeth gritting, giving a sense of danger. Arthur felt a shiver down his spine. A slight sensation of… fear? Perhaps. But he found it cute. Maybe filling his throat with water helped his vocal chords. Arthur smirked, standing up and rubbing John’s head. He said, laughing a bit more.

“Stop bein’ a goddamn idiot. You ain’t a little girl t’be ashamed of bein’ naked. As if we don’t have the same thing between the legs. Now, stand up.”

Arthur raised a hand to help John. The younger couldn’t help an erection when he saw Arthur all wet and glowing before the sunset light, smiling at him. John pulled his shirt even more to cover his now hard dick, embarrassed and trying to looking at anything that wasn’t Arthur. He said loud, not meeting the other’s eyes:

“Gimme something to wear, first!”

“Did ya bring clothes in your saddle?” Arthur asked as he walked to the horses casually.

“Uh… No, I forgot it.”

“So you’ll have to use mine. I bet it’ll look like a potato sack on you,” said Arthur, searching for some smaller trousers. He got one and threw it at John, who dressed it and put his belt on to hold it up. He had to fold the legs of the trousers, they were so much larger than John’s frame and it really looked like a potato sack. The boy was somewhat relieved it was too loose, so his hard cock couldn’t be noticed as he stood up and wore his satchel, ready to go back.

Arthur teased John wickedly:

“Won’t try again? You might have learned now!”

“Shut up, Arthur…” John answered, annoyed. He coughed once more, as if his body was intending to remind himself he almost drowned.

“Okay, let’s try again another day.” Arthur said, snorting a bit. “Gonna make some fire to dry us,” he continued and started to look around on the ground, intending to gather some twigs.

“Like hell I would try again,” said John, most to himself only. He promised himself he would never try to swim again on his life.

After some minutes, both men were sitting beside a small fire pit, feeling the warmth drying their bodies.

“Don’t need to thank me.” Arthur said sincerely.

“I won’t. I almost drowned because of yer smart ass, you didn’t nothing more than yer obligation.” John answered, clearly angry. Arthur liked to play with him. He liked when the boy got angry because of anything, it was kinda cute. 

The older man took off his black neckerchief and unbuttoned his shirt, undressing and laying it spread on the ground. He blushed when he took a good look at how the trousers seemed loose on John, but there was a little bulge, barely noticeable. John was half-hard, and Arthur smirked with arousal.

“As you say, Johnny boy.” He teased again. His voice more low-pitched than usual. John’s blood went right down to his cock and up to his cheeks, either because of Arthur’s exposed chest or his low voice, or both. He grunted in a strange tone, sounding like a dog growl, while hugging his knees to hide his erection and looking fixedly at the fire.

“Wanna know what Dutch’ll say when I tell’im ‘bout yer attempt, hah!”

“Fuck you, Morgan!”


End file.
